Best Day Ever
by wneleh
Summary: Link's about to go spend the rest of summer vacation with his father, like he does every August. Before he leaves, Rhett has planned the Best Day Ever. (Rhett & Link gen kidfic.)


It was going to be the Best Day Ever. Link was going to love it.

Rhett opened his pack for what he thought was probably the 20th time that morning – yes, everything was there, and no, you wouldn't be able to see what was in the bottom if you were just doing a quick check, or tossing something in.

A screech of tires and a frantic ringing of the doorbell announced that Link and his mom had arrived, Link by bike, his mom by car – the screech was just so that they could pretend she'd been taking the roads at top speed, but everyone knew she most likely hadn't topped 20, and had probably spilled some time so that Link would win. He and Link had theorized that, once Link turned 12, they'd stop this game, but apparently not.

Rhett picked up the pack and tried to drape it over his shoulder as casually as possible – left shoulder, then right, then left again, and then he couldn't even remember which was his normal side.

Settling on his right shoulder as the less suspicious option, he headed downstairs, only to be almost bowled over by Cole and Link racing up past him. "Good to see you too," he called as they dashed into Cole's room and slammed the door shut.

Probably wanted to listen to Cole's newest 2 Live Crew album. Rhett worried about Cole's influence on Link, he really did.

Anyway, he didn't need rap lyrics on his soul today. Which meant he might as well go say hi to Ms. Capps (was she still Ms. Capps now that she and Jimmy had split?).

He paused at the door of the kitchen – his mom and Ms. Capps were at the table, his mom fully focused on Ms. Capps, Ms. Capps fully focused on her coffee; which meant neither was going to enquire too much about his pack.

After a moment his mom patted Ms. Capps' hand. "Well, Sue, you know we'll support you whatever you and Charlie work out. And Lillington isn't too far…"

Lillington? Rhett reasoned they were talking about the next few weeks, when Link would be doing his annual stay with his father. It really wasn't a big deal; but Rhett decided that maybe Ms. Capps wasn't too eager to be all alone for the first time.

His mom looked up and her Mom Face snapped on. "There you are! Where's Link?"

"Cole's room, listening to Pat Boone," he said, wondering how big of a lie they'd actually swallow.

"Really," said Ms. Capps.

But then Link and Cole were charging downstairs (had they even had time to listen to more than a song or two?) and Link was getting last minute instructions to be back by 4 p.m. sharp so that his dad wouldn't have to wait here for him. And to behave. And to be helpful and kind to his stepmother and little brother. "Tone down the irony, drop the sarcasm. And maybe read a book or two, don't just play video games."

Link agreed to everything without complaint and accepted his goodbye hug and kiss, displaying an admirable amount of courage, Rhett thought. And then they were both outside; Link turned and did a mock door-slide, as if he'd just escaped purgatory, then laughed and picked up his bike from where he'd tossed it, only to carefully deploy the kickstand.

It was one of those little things that Link did that Rhett would never have thought to do, especially since they were going to be riding their bikes anyway in a minute. But Link was Link and that was that, Rhett's mom sometimes said.

"I have everything planned," said Rhett. "We're going watch some hoops - the Camels freshman and walk-ons scrimmaging Davidson, but first we're going to ride down Sorority Row…"

"Okay, but first I want to do a shift at The Groc," said Link.

The Groc. Great. All summer, he and Link had been helping the owner of the convenience store organize his baseball cards so that he could maximize profits when he sold them; for this task, they earned a whopping buck an hour each.

"It'll be my last shift," said Link. "And we can buy candy after, for half price."

Rhett shook his pack. "I have some Japanese licorice from one of my dad's students," he said.

Link made a face. "I'd rather have Starburst," he said.

So, The Groc it was. Not a great start to the Best Day Ever, but Link just loved organizing things so Rhett left him working in the back storage room while he chatted with the morning shift cashier, who was also a fan of Campbell University basketball. "Scrimmage today at noon," Link called through the open door, so loud everyone in the store could hear. "We're going, Rhett and I."

It didn't take long for Link to finish everything that had been left out for them – Link swore that he was faster when Rhett didn't help him, and Rhett thought maybe he was right – and then they collected their earnings and converted it into bargain Starburst, Skittles, and Clearly Canadian.

Rhett pointed his bike toward Sorority Row and pedaled hard enough that Link didn't have any choice but to follow him. Yes, the girls were out! Rhett threw his bike down and ran to the hole in the hedge he'd discovered yesterday, then lay on his belly and took the mini binoculars out of his pack.

Massive overkill; all he could see now was shoes and buckets of paint. He put the binoculars back.

In a minute, Link was sitting next to him, at an angle that would allow Link to see precisely nothing.

"Come on, there's room," Rhett said, having to raise his voice a little to be heard over the stereo blasting out of an upper story window. "They're PAINTING THEIR HOUSE."

"I know how to paint a house," said Link. "Been doing it with my dad since I was eight."

"We're not here to learn how to paint," said Rhett. "They're COLLEGE WOMEN. PAINTING THEIR HOUSE." Six or eight of them, in t-shirts and Daisy Dukes, still getting themselves organized by the look of it.

"How did you even know about it?" Link asked.

From an overheard conversation between a beautiful blond and the owner of Bud's Hardware. "I have my sources."

"You're being creepy," said Link. Then, "Indigo Girls. Cool."

It took a moment for Rhett to realize Link was talking about the music. "Seriously? You like this?"

"Listen, they're harmonizing."

Yeah, Rhett could hear it, female voices from the stereo but also from the other side of the hedge, singing high and low and in-between. And, next to him, Link joining in, singing notes that went with the music but weren't quite what Rhett was hearing.

Rhett rolled over and sat up; peeking through the hedge on his belly wasn't as comfortable as he'd thought it would be. "How do you know how to do that?" Rhett asked.

Link shrugged. "I've been working on it all summer. I pick a note either higher or lower than the melody, then I mostly sing that, but I also go up a little or down sometimes. Or sometimes I cross. Or add notes if the singer's drawing something out."

They sat through a couple more songs, Link feeling this way through them, Rhett trying to figure out how he knew when to hold a note and when to change it; then he looked at his watch. "Almost noon! Mom gave me money for lunch!"

Twenty minutes later, they were in the stands in a Campbell gym, munching hot dogs and sharing a bag of chips. Surprisingly, his brother Cole was there; even more surprisingly, Link had steered them to a different part of the gym away from Cole, and Cole hadn't so much as waved at them. Had Cole and Link had a fight that morning? Or was their friendship really just about making Rhett jealous, like Rhett's mother said?

There were about a hundred others at the gym, mostly parents and college students.  
"Don't stare, but that guy's still following us," said Link.

"Guy? What guy?"

Rhett looked around and Link promptly elbowed him. "You're not even looking the right way. He's not BEHIND us, he's three rows back from Cole. Blue shorts, white shirt."

"The guy in the Celtics tank?"

"Did I say green? No, I said white. He's been at The Groc four of the last five times we've been there. I thought he was an employee but I asked and nobody knows him. And he's always staring at you."

Rhett tried to look without looking like he was looking, but he couldn't figure out who Link was talking about. There were a bunch of guys that matched that description in the gym, and a lot of them looked vaguely familiar. It was a small town, lots of people liked basketball, lots of people came through The Groc.

"You're hopeless," said Link.

At half-time, one of the assistant coaches tossed him a ball. "You're Prof. McLaughlin's son, right?"

"Yessir."

"Trying out for your high school team?"

"I'm only 12," Rhett said. "Seventh grade."

The man whistled. "That's what I heard, but I couldn't believe it, you're so tall already. Let's see what you can do."

"Watch my bag," Rhett told Link; then he worked the three-point arc, making seven for nine, to growing applause, then executing a perfect layup.

It was awesome.

"Show off, much?" Link asked when Rhett rejoined him at the start of the second half.

"You could have come shoot too," said Rhett. "You're a pretty good shot. You should play."

"I'm better with my feet," said Link.

"Maybe that guy, he's a recruiter," said Rhett. "For UNC or Duke."

"Right."

"Okay, maybe for some fancy boarding high school. I could be a prep." He thought a minute. "But then we wouldn't be at Harnett Central together."

"Well, maybe that won't happen anyway," said Link.

What the blazes was that supposed to mean?

A couple of times it seemed like Link was about to say something, but didn't. So maybe Link was just developing a new tic? Rhett wished he'd stop doing things like that; Link might be his favorite guy to hang out with – yeah, he'd even called Link his best friend, when the need arose – but that didn't mean he liked everything about him. And if Rhett was going to be an NBA star, well, he didn't need his best friend to be some sort of freak…

"I swear the air up where you're breathing must be thin or something," said Link. "Are you even watching the court?"

As the final buzzer sounded, Link was up and off the bleachers. "Follow me," he said. "I've got two more hours 'til I have to meet my dad at your house. Let's go jump in the creek."

It wasn't a long ride at all to where Buies Creek itself passed behind the stadium. Link rode slightly ahead – he must have really wanted to get in one last swim…

Rhett heard a motor, closing in fast from behind…

Then Link was tilting down and away, but, no, it was Rhett who'd been hit… Link was screaming his name…

Pain… his knees, his elbows, his head…

Link was still yelling…

Something smelled… sweet…

At least his pack hadn't fallen off his shoulder… If he lost THAT, he'd be in REAL trouble…

Voices – a man's, and Link's. Link was talking. Talking. Talking, always talking.

Family loves Rhett. Everybody loves him. Please don't do anything to him.

Me instead. Bother to everyone. Mama wants me to live with Dad. Dad doesn't have room for me.

Over and over.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, Rhett screamed in his mind, but his voice had utterly failed him….

He was lying on dirt, had no idea where, but he thought maybe the river was close. His hands were tied together behind his back, and his legs were tied at the knee and ankle. Link was a few feet away, similarly bound. Standing over them was a guy about the age of a college student or a little older. Behind the guy was a white van with the back open, and Rhett thought maybe he remembered being inside, travelling down bumping rural roads, thinking maybe he was about to puke.

Now he remembered the guy. They'd chatted one day a few weeks ago, at The Groc, until the owner had told Rhett to get back to sorting cards. Rhett remembered the guy asking if Prof. McLaughlin was his father….

Link was still talking, still saying the same things over and over again. "You don't have to do anything to us," he said. "It's not too late to stop. Or, just take me, let my friend go. You're robbing humanity if you kill him. Me, I'm just a twitchy kid with an anxiety disorder, ask anyone. It's not too late to stop…"

The guy was now messing around in the back of his van, and Rhett wondered if maybe he was just going to drive away and leave them. But, no, he was pulling out books…

Big books. Textbooks. Guide to Southern Tort Law. Applied Contract Analysis. Constitution Overview in Theory and Practice.

Law textbooks.

The guy was a law student. Or, had been. Had probably failed out. Was out for revenge.

Was… trying to catch a book on fire on a hot, humid August afternoon. Without accelerant.

Definitely a dropout.

Link paused long enough to turn and catch Rhett's eye. He'd also noticed, it seemed. Link rolled his eyes and went back to making his nonsensical plea.

Which wasn't going to work at all, because, like Link had said in the gym, the guy had been watching Rhett, was after Rhett, was going to kill him… Probably burn him to death…

The guy finally had a book burning, and was now adding in twigs and the driest leaves around, which popped as they gave up their moisture…

Popped and snapped and…

Where was his pack?

By Link's feet.

As the guy hauled a small, dead branch out of the bramble, Rhett hissed, "Push my pack into the fire."

"Why?"

"Do it!"

Link first rolled left, then right, like he was trying to free himself through ineffectual, panicked thrashing. His bound feet caught Rhett's pack; then, like the sweeper he played for Buies Creek's Travel BU12, he delivered it the yard it needed to travel in one swift two-footed kick, square into the flames.

Nothing happened; the guy laughed, but didn't move the pack.

Rhett waited, squirming back as slowly and unobtrusively as he could; Link did the same…

The first explosion was small, but enough to draw the guy toward the fire. Rhett snaked as far as he could, as fast as he could, and closed his eyes.

Then everything went off at once. If the guy screamed, Rhett couldn't hear it over the blast, then the ringing in his ears. The smelled of rotten eggs and – something else – filled his nose and mouth.

Burning chunks of branch and book were everywhere. Link was rolling over and away… his shirt had been burning, he'd crushed it out.

At least the van didn't seem to be on fire. Nor anything else, really; it was just too damp, too humid.

Rhett pulled his bound hands around his feet so that they were now in front; Link had had the same thought, and had beaten him to it, plus had found a sharp piece of metal. Rhett held out his hands and Link started sawing, then finished up with a pull of his teeth. With his newly freed hands Rhett untied his own legs, then helped Link with his final knot.

And then they were free.

Rhett could now hear screams, somewhere in the woods. Toward whatever water it was that he had sensed earlier? Rhett hoped so.

"What was that?" Link asked. "What was in the bag?"

"A dozen Roman Candles and a half-dozen Screamers. And some sparklers, but I don't think they did much. Oh, and a string of fire crackers." He paused. "It was supposed to be a surprise for you."

"Well, it sure was, at that," said Link.

At that instant, a surviving fire cracker went off well to Rhett's right, and they both jumped.

As one, they rose and started walking up the dirt path the van must have come down. "Cole must have gotten his plates," Link said. "Must have seen him take us."

"Cole?"

"He was following us all day. I asked him to. He was trying to figure out who the guy was, in case I wasn't able to flush him out."

"You mean, you PLANNED this?"

"No! I just, I wanted whatever was going to happen to go ahead and happen. While I was around to help."

That was – a lot to take in.

Very soon, they heard sirens; in a minute, they were at a road, and every piece of emergency equipment from their part of the county seemed to be converging.

Cole, Rhett's dad, and Link's dad were in one of the first cars; Link's dad pulled him away and was checking him out and yelling for a paramedic to look at Link's burn, and then Rhett's dad was doing the same…

Somehow he and Link got sent to different hospitals, Link to one a little further away because of the burn, even though he hadn't seemed at all bothered by it earlier.

"Is Link okay?" he kept asking, but nobody knew, though his mother, who met them at the hospital, said she would keep trying to find out what was up.

Rhett didn't want to tell anyone that it was on account of his dad's job that he'd been nabbed, because he didn't want his dad feeling guilty or anything, but people – his parents, doctors and nurses as they patched him up from when he'd first been hit, then police of all sorts – kept asking questions, the same ones over and over, and Rhett went with the truth because his head hurt too much to keep track of any lie he might have come up with.

It was just past sunset when the hospital released him. "Is it still today? Tuesday?" he had to ask.

Then he was home and eating ice cream for dinner on the sofa in front of the television and Cole was beside him with his arm around his shoulder, which was just plain weird. The television had to go off, though, because they interrupted Coach to show the clearing where he and Link had been held, were talking about the badly burned body of former law student…

Rhett dropped his bowl and covered his face and now Cole was really hugging him and yelling for their mom and all Rhett could see was a burning shape running through the woods, which was wrong because he hadn't actually seen that happen. But they'd done that, him and Link, they'd killed a guy and it was self-defense but they'd done it…

And now he was hearing Link trying so hard to argue for Rhett's life… seeing Link land the pack in the fire so perfectly, not asking questions, just doing it…

Nobody had asked about the fireworks. Why hadn't anybody asked? Would he get in trouble?

"I need to see Link," he said when he could.

His mom shook her head. "Sue just called. They're keeping him until later tonight, just to make sure things aren't worse than they seem." His mom laughed. "She says every Neal in Harnett County is swarming her house. Her family too."

"But he was supposed to go to his dad's tonight."

"That's not the sort of thing that everybody would know," said his mom. "Anyway, I've invited Sue and Link here for the night if they need some peace."

Rhett was asleep when the door to his room opened several hours later and Link slipped inside and flipped on Rhett's desk lamp. Rhett sat up and rotated so that he was sitting against the wall, down from his pillow, and Link joined him.

"Glad you came," said Rhett. "I was thinking of sneaking out and biking to your house, but, you know, no more bike."

"Yeah," said Link. "Mine's okay, one of my uncles got it about an hour ago, from the side of the road. I think it's in the back of his pick-up."

"You have a lot of family around here."

"Sure do."

"They're… pretty close. The Neals. And you're a part of that."

"I guess."

Rhett took a breath. "I have some things to say, so hear me out, okay?"

"Okay," Link said softly.

"Number one, thank you for saving my life. A couple different ways."

Rhett thought maybe Link would protest, but instead he said, "You're welcome."

"Number two – what was all that about you wanting him to spare me, not you? What was that about?"

"That's called ACTING," said Link. "You were out of it, because of the chloroform and also I think you hit your head, right? Anyway, I wanted to keep him off balance. I knew he was fixated on you, but I didn't know why until they told me in the hospital. I didn't know what sorts of books those were. Or didn't put it together, at least."

"Chloroform?"

"How he knocked you out. Didn't you ask any questions at the hospital?"

"Just how you were. Which nobody knew."

"Yeah, some day they'll make phones we can carry in our pockets, and then life will be a lot easier."

"No kid will ever have one, though," said Rhett.

"No, I suppose not," said Link.

Rhett took a deep breath. "I don't really think you were acting," he said. "I think you're depressed."

Link actually giggled at that. "I think I'm a LOT of things. Have you ever read a book on adolescent psychology? Well DON'T because there's scary, scary stuff in them, and if you cross your eyes right every single kid you know has something. I self-diagnosed myself with about a dozen things, then my mom took the book away."

"She lets you listen to 2 Live Crew but she took a medical book away?"

Link was still giggling. "Yes, yes she did. And she thinks 2 Live Crew is sea chanties."

"No."

"Yes. Because that's what Cole told your mom and it spread."

"Wow."

"Is there a number three?" asked Link. "Because this is a side of Rhett McLaughlin I seldom see and it's fascinating."

Okay…

"Number three," said Rhett. "You said something that made me think you wouldn't be going to Harnett Central for high school. What was that about?"

"Mom wants to take some classes this year but she still has to work full time, especially since she and Jimmy split, so she and my dad are talking about me living with him this coming school year. Or maybe next. I don't know, they were going to talk about it today actually, with my step-mom. She promised, JUST for the year, but who knows? Also, she's been thinking about selling our house here and moving back to Lillington anyway, to be closer to her people, and so that I could walk to my dad's house, even if I still lived with her."

"Where does Lillington go to middle school and high school?"

"I don't even know," said Link, "but it's zoned differently, I called the schools and asked." He brightened, then said, "Anyway, after today she said that there was no way she was letting me out of her sight, that the two weeks with my dad were as cancelled as I wanted them to be. I still think I might go, because I have some mowing jobs lined up but it's nice to not HAVE to spend the night there if I don't want to. I like being home. Well, home or here. And I'm thinking that might extend to the school year as well."

Link was almost bouncing now. "Also, your mom is great, did you know that? My mom says that, this morning, your mom promised that she'd watch me overnight as needed, as often as needed, if that meant that my mom could work and go to school. So everything's in flux."

Link shoved Rhett with a foot. "You done with your questions?"

"For now, I guess."

"Okay, because I have some of my own," said Link. "I guess just one, really. What was up with the fireworks?"

"I bought them from a guy in a pickup truck, back before July 4th."

"And you saved them? Rhett McLaughlin had fireworks where – in this room? – for over a month? How? Why?"

"I wanted to shoot them off with you, right before you left for your dad's house," said Rhett. "I wanted to make this the best day ever."

"Through fireworks?"

"Through everything," said Rhett. "Through the Japanese candy, and Sorority Row, and the basketball game. I didn't know your dad was coming so early or I'd have brought out the fireworks some evening before when you were here. But I still thought they'd be neat."

"Rhett, I HATE fireworks," said Link. "Especially amateur ones. They're dangerous, and they're illegal, and I don't like loud noises."

Oh.

"Rhett, what you'd planned was YOUR best day ever, not mine."

Rhett looked at Link, then away, then back at him, then at his Larry Bird poster, because – yeah. "Sorry," he said, "I guess I didn't really think about it."

"Don't apologize," said Link. "I had my own stuff going on with Cole, of course. And I really liked the singing. I liked that you sat there and didn't mind me doing it. And the basketball game was fun, even when you were out there showing off."

"So what would your perfect day have in it?"

"More talking. Listening to music – rap is great, but I've been listening to some of my dad's country albums, and I think you'd like them if you gave them a try. Some swimming. McDonalds. Definitely McDonalds. Less staring at older girls we don't even know. No explosions."

"No kidnapping."

Link shuddered. "No kidnapping," he agreed.

THE END

Author's notes: I've drawn a few things from real life here - Rhett's dad's faculty position, Link's mother's second divorce, Rhett's and Link's early summer job at a convenience store, a few family names. Everything else is made up or is extrapolated wildly from GMM, GMMore, and especially Ear Biscuits episodes about the guys' childhood, early experiences with girls, and their various summer jobs. Everything else is, of course, completely made up.


End file.
